


Aren't You Tired of Being Nice?

by Thebonemoose



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Pre-Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Pre-Relationship, no beta we die like archive assistants, season one AU, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24395815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebonemoose/pseuds/Thebonemoose
Summary: Martin was a patient man. He had to be, really. He’d been caring for his mum for ten years, plus he’d worked retail more times than he could count.You don’t deal with bullheaded customers for the better part of a decade without learning patience.Which was why his boss’s irate comments towards him did not bother Martin. Well-- they bothered him a little, sure, but it wasn’t like he laid awake at night thinking about them. Just a pinprick of hurt here and there, insignificant enough that Martin could write them off.Until he couldn't anymore.So he said something.AKA Martin aren't you tired of being nice?? Don't you just want to go apeshit
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood
Comments: 24
Kudos: 217





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dear followers, today I offer you ~nothing~  
> Tomorrow?  
> Who knows.....
> 
> Basically this is a dumb little idea that I had and spent almost no time on I hope you like it but if you don't that's okay too!!!!

Martin was a patient man. He had to be, really. He’d been caring for his mum for ten years, plus he’d worked retail more times than he could count. 

You don’t deal with bullheaded customers for the better part of a decade without learning patience. 

Which was why his boss’s irate comments towards him did not bother Martin. Well-- they bothered him a little, sure, but it wasn’t like he laid awake at night thinking about them. Just a pinprick of hurt here and there, insignificant enough that Martin could write them off. 

Tim and Sasha had the habit of looking at him to gauge his reaction whenever Jon said something particularly snippy, but Martin was pretty good at keeping a blank face. Jon would mutter and retire to his office afterwards, and Martin could smile at his coworkers like nothing was wrong. 

Sasha had pulled him aside once and asked him if it truly didn’t bother him, what Jon said. He shrugged, and said, “Not really. It’s not personal.”

And then, suddenly, it was personal. 

Jon kept saying very targeted things about Martin’s incompetency _in particular_ during his statements. Every mention of Sasha was flooded with thinly veiled affection (not that Martin could fault Jon for that; Sasha was the best, after all) and if Tim was mentioned, it was with exasperated fondness.

But Martin? Martin was an _idiot._ Martin was _incompetent_. Martin didn’t know _left from right_ , Martin’s Latin was atrocious (newsflash, Jon, he dropped out of school, of-fucking-course his Latin was atrocious, HE DIDN’T KNOW ANY LATIN.) 

Still. Martin tried his best. He was patient. And he was cheerful. And he brought Jon tea just how he liked it, same as Tim, same as Sasha. He asked Sasha and Tim for help with his work, and Tim had even stopped ribbing him good-naturedly for his ignorance. 

Progress, right?

And the entire time, Martin was looking for ways to prove himself to Jon. Of course he was, Jon was his boss. And… well, there were some days Martin even entertained the notion that maybe, in the future, they could be friends. 

So when he was assigned the Carlos Vittery case, Martin grit his teeth and got to work. 

He wasn’t afraid of spiders, or anything. He just didn’t really like the “field work” aspect of the job. Not like Tim. Tim _loved_ being away from his desk. No, Martin tended to prefer staying in the Archives, like Sasha. Although, in fairness, she was far better at her job than he. A degree in Library Science would do that, he supposed.

After a fruitless investigation, Martin returned to work only to be faced with Jon’s blatant scorn and contempt for Martin and his work. 

And some small spark ignited in him. A fire of Indignation ate away at all the memories of Jon’s disrespect towards Martin, burning hotter and brighter inside him.

_Well,_ Martin decided. _I’ll just have to prove him wrong._

And then Martin made the worst decision of his life. He went back to Carlos Vittery’s house.

Stuck in his dark flat with a singing worm person right outside at all times did not provide Martin with much to think about, except “oh, god, I’m going to die in here.”

What Martin did think about, though— besides how much he now hated peaches— was Jon. 

Specifically, how fucked up it was that Martin wanted so badly to improve Jon’s opinion of him. And for what? So his asshole boss would give him a modicum of respect? So he’d feel cared about? So he could feel slightly better about his so-called “issues with authority?”

Martin sighed, and cracked open another can of peaches. Between the overwhelming bouts of fear was a surprising undercurrent of annoyance. 

But then Jane Prentiss started singing again, and the fear returned.

Somehow (Martin thanked the universe and Whoever else was listening) Martin survived. The worms had gone, and Martin booked it to the Institute. Jon humored him as he gave his statement, and Martin’s breathing stuttered when he relived the feeling of worms on his skin and in his house and invading his life for two fucking weeks. 

And then Jon did, arguably, the most unexpected thing he’d ever done. He did something nice for Martin, and offered him a room in the Archives. 

A small bloom of hope started growing in Martin’s chest. It was foolish, but he couldn’t help but feel that maybe Jon would be— if not nicer, than respectful at least. 

This was not the case. 

He wasn’t… unprofessional? Well, he was, in that being noticeably rude to any of your employees is unprofessional— but mainly he was just… brusque. Snippy. 

More, since Sasha had her run in with that… distortion thing.

Martin could tell it was getting to Jon. He stayed at work even later after Sasha gave her statement, and came in early. To be honest, it was pretty awkward for Martin to be waking up in his pants and have his boss right outside the door.

But that’s not to say it was all bad. As much as Jon was— well, bitchy— he had his unexpected moments of gentleness. Not towards Martin, obviously, but Martin was fascinated by them all the same.

Usually, these were directed towards Sasha. It didn’t take a genius to guess that she was his favorite. Honestly, Martin didn’t blame her, Sasha was the best. Still, there was an uncomfortable feeling in his chest that felt like jealousy whenever Jon gave Sasha a particularly pleased smile.

They were rare, but, well. It had been known to happen.

Martin kept making Jon his tea. Jon kept thanking Martin with cursory politeness. Jon’s sharp tongue kept raring itself in Martin’s presence.

And it started to hurt.

As Martin was now forced into even more of a vulnerable position with Jon, the fact that Jon still refused to treat him with much dignity began to sting and fester. Loathe as Martin was to admit it, he felt a bit like that abominable worm lady. 

But he kept a reign on himself; he knew an outburst really would not help anyone. He talked to Tim about it on occasion, because Tim was a surprisingly good listener. Tim always grimaced and offered a few words of comfort, which were appreciated but did not do much to sate his desire for telling Jon to shove it.

But one day, Martin had just had enough. He’d had a shitty conversation with his mum, who blamed him for everything (again), and Elias had sneered at him, and then Jon just had to— _he just had to go and press Martin’s buttons, didn’t he?_

Martin had been trying to manage his anger, calming himself internally as he brought Jon a cup of tea. He’d spilled the tea on Jon’s desk, (not even on any papers, _just_ on the desk!) and before Martin could even stammer out an apology, Jon had glared at him. “Oh, god, Martin!” He’d bitten venomously, and Martin felt a cold, steely rage fill his veins.

“Jonathan,” he said, lowly and dangerously calm. 

Jon’s eyes snapped up to his, his hand gripping a now tea-soaked napkin.

“I’m not your punching bag. I’m not your doormat. I’m a human being. Treat me with respect.” 

And then Martin had turned, and left. 

He didn’t just stop at his desk, though. He walked right out of the Archives, out of the Institute, and into the world. 

Then he stopped at a bench, because he was hyperventilating.

What the fuck had he been thinking? Jon was his _boss._ And not only that, but Martin was _living_ at the institute! It wasn’t like he could just take a few days off at home! He would have to see Jon again that same day. 

_Oh, fuck._

Martin put his head in his hands. 

Well, there was one thing for certain, Martin would not be going back until after five at the earliest. He sighed. He hadn’t clocked out. Whatever, Martin was already lying on his CV. What more harm could he do?

Martin pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Tim. His response came almost immediately.

_Tim: Holy shit. Sasha and I are taking you out for drinks tonight, DO NOT BOTHER ARGUING._

Martin chuckled fondly, and agreed. The more time Martin could spend away from the Archives that night, the better. 

He waited in the park near the Institute until five, when Tim and Sasha came walking down the steps. They found him easily, and Sasha did not hesitate to wrap him in a hug, which Martin accepted greedily. Tim clapped him on the shoulder, and said “Let’s go get you wasted!”

And Martin wasn’t going to argue with that, now, was he?

Martin did not go back to the Archives. Instead, Tim invited him to stay with him, and Martin did not think twice about accepting. They stumbled drunkenly into Tim’s flat, giggling and shushing each other.

Tim got them each a glass of water, which they kept choking on because they couldn’t stop laughing. 

“Okay, bedtime,” Tim said, and Martin walked to the living room. 

“Where are you going?” Tim asked, frowning. 

Martin raised an eyebrow. “Couch,” he said simply. 

He shook his head. “My couch sucks, I figured we’d just share the bed,” Tim replied. 

Martin shrugged and followed Tim to his bedroom. It was neater than he’d have expected, but he didn’t care to spend more than a moment thinking about it. He was too tired. 

They collapsed onto Tim’s bed, and Martin was asleep almost instantly. 

The next morning was rough. Martin’s mouth tasted like an exhaust pipe, and Tim did not feel much better, judging by the way he woke up groaning. They staggered their way into getting ready, and left for work. Tim bought them both black coffees that tasted a bit like sludge, but Martin wasn’t going to complain. 

Sasha took one look at them and laughed. It was probably an amusing sight: Martin wearing the same clothes from yesterday, both of them nursing caffeine-filled sludge, wearing dark sunglasses.

“Walk of shame, boys?” She teased. 

Martin groaned. Tim pulled his glasses down enough to peer at her over the tops of them. “Shame? Don’t know the meaning of the word,” he said evenly, although the effect was somewhat ruined by his sickly pallor and raspy voice. 

Martin walked to his desk and slumped over. 

Sasha wheeled her chair over to him. “Seriously though,” she said, kindly. “How are you feeling about the whole... ‘Jon’ thing?”

Martin groaned again. “Bad. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Sasha sighed. “You should, though! I thought you agreed with us last night. Jon needed a good stern talking-to.”

“I’m not sure what I did could in any way be classified as ‘a good stern talking-to,’” Martin replied. Sasha shrugged. 

“Close enough. Look, just let me know if he gives you shit for that. Or anything else, really. I’ve got your back,” she said, and nudged his elbow gently. 

He turned his head and smiled at her. 

Evidently, the universe decided to be kind that day, because Martin did not see Jon at all. He knew Jon was there, given the many meetings he had with Tim and Sasha throughout the day Martin looked at them nervously every time they emerged from his office, but they just shrugged. Jon hadn’t said anything about Martin at all, apparently. 

Martin wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

The next day, Martin did actually see Jon. They didn’t really speak, just nodded awkwardly and politely at each other, which was probably the best Martin could have hoped for. Tim and Sasha kept noticeably cringing whenever they saw the two interact, however. It would have been funny if Martin wasn’t low-key mortified the entire time. 

Things changed the day after that. Martin felt safe enough to let his guard down a little. He was operating under the assumption that if Jon was going to fire him for insubordination, he would have already done so. 

Martin was spending his break with Tim and Sasha in the break room when Jon came in, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Martin,” he said, and Martin’s stomach dropped. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

Martin desperately wanted to say ‘no, no you may not,’ but instead, he nodded. He placed his mug of tea on the counter and shot panicked looks to Tim and Sasha when Jon couldn’t see. 

Jon and he walked out of earshot of the break room, and then Jon looked down and sighed. 

This is it, Martin thought. He’s going to fire me. 

Jon ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up in a way Martin had never seen. It made him look both younger and more tired. 

“I-- I need to apologize, Martin,” Jon said, meeting his gaze. 

Martin was very careful to keep his surprise from showing on his face. This was a difficult task, because Martin was very, _very_ surprised. 

Jon continued, contrite.. “You were right. My behavior has been atrocious. There really… There’s no excuse, Martin. I’m sorry. And I wanted to… Well, to thank you for telling me.”

Martin deserved an academy award for his completely impassive expression. Holy shit, he should have been an actor. 

Martin nodded. “Is that all?” he said, the picture of professionalism. 

Jon gave a jerky nod. Martin turned on his heel and all but ran back to the break room. 

“Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit--” he mumbled under his breath and fell onto a chair. 

“What? What happened?” Tim asked, alarmed. He nearly dropped his mug of tea. 

Martin put his face in his hands. 

“Martin, what did he say?” Sasha questioned intently. 

“He apologized,” Martin chuckled, completely bewildered. “He didn’t fire me, he apologized. He _thanked me_.”

Tim and Sasha glanced at each other. 

“Oh. Good,” Sasha said, surprised. 

Tim frowned. “Why are you freaking out?” 

Martin shrugged helplessly. “I’m… shocked, I guess.”

Over the next few days, Jon’s behavior changed radically. He was no longer brusque and irritable towards Martin. He explained to Martin how to perform a task instead of getting angry when Martin did it incorrectly. And he was kinder towards Tim and Sasha, too. To the point where they even started inviting him out for drinks after work. Jon always declined, but it still said a lot about his progress. 

Martin was having some difficulty, actually. Jon’s change meant that he was nice, now, and unfortunately… Martin was a _sucker_ for kindness. 

Martin’s inconvenient crush crept in on him slowly, but it culminated when Jon finally agreed to go for drinks with them. 

Jon was so _different_ outside of work He was adorably awkward, but he began to relax after a little while. He had an unexpectedly dry sense of humor that made Sasha groan and Tim grin, and he was weirdly good at darts. 

Plus, his hair had gotten messed up _and_ he was flushed from drinking, and Martin felt like he was seeing Jon for the very first time. Laughing uninhibited with Tim and Sasha, looking free and gleeful, Martin felt like he couldn’t look away. 

Jon was _beautiful._

Martin excused himself to the bathroom and locked himself in. There was no going back after this, was there? Now he was forever going to be a person who thought Jon was attractive, and maybe wanted to kiss him a little bit, too. 

He groaned. Of all the people in the world, it had to be Jon’s ex-asshole boss, didn’t it? That was just his luck. 

He came back out, and Jon glanced over and brightened up when he saw Martin. 

**_FUCK._ **

Martin was in so deep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's perspective.

It was not an exaggeration to say that Jon was stressed constantly. 

He had no idea where to even _begin_ with reorganzing the Archives, and he cursed his senile predecessor every day. Not to mention, Elias kept breathing down his neck at inopportune moments. 

It was a perfect storm of anxiety and aggravation, and Jon was not the best at managing those particular emotions. Or...any emotions, really. 

To top it all off, his assistant Martin was completely incompetent. He was always underfoot, endlessly cheerful. It was exhausting, and Jon found himself snapping at him more and more. 

He was just so _annoying._

Jon was swept up in a chaotic world of statements and archive work, and Martin was making _tea._

He was going to get a headache from rolling his eyes so much. 

Then Martin was absent for two weeks, and he sent Jon some rather inane texts about his illness that Jon glanced at for two seconds and then promptly forgot about.

Things changed, a bit, when Martin returned. He felt badly that Martin had been held captive by Jane Prentiss, and seeing how uncomfortable Martin looked at the idea of returning to his own flat prompted Jon to do something he ordinarily never would. So, he offered Martin the spare room. 

Martin seemed surprised, but he thanked Jon. It became even harder to avoid Martin after that, obviously. Luckily for him, Martin never tried to talk to him until after normal work hours had already begun. The next few weeks passed as normally as they could, given the circumstances, and the increasing number of worms amassing outside the Institute. 

Then Sasha met that Michael character, and things may as well have gone completely to shit. It was just too much. Jon knew he was being irate, and he knew he should stop, but everything kept _piling up!_

He was trying to speak with Elias about the fire extinguishers, figure out who or what Michael was, plus he could not shake the feeling that he was being _watched._

And then Martin spilled some tea. And Martin, in no uncertain terms, told him to get his shit together. 

And Jon felt _sick._

He hid in his office for the rest of the day, consumed by shame and guilt. Martin was absolutely correct, of course. Just because Jon was struggling did not give him the right to take it out on his coworker. 

He sighed for the twentieth time, and hung his head. 

The next day Jon successfully avoided Martin, and spent his time figuring out how to apologize. He’d lost count of how many apologies he’d mentally drafted. 

He figured he couldn’t avoid him a second day in a row, so when the day after came, he steeled himself for some scathing yet justified looks from Martin, and made an appearance. 

Surprisingly, Martin did not send him any scathing looks, he just looked a bit awkward. Jon responded politely, feeling just as awkward (if not more), and then he went into his office and resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. 

He couldn’t do this for much longer. Jon would apologize to Martin the very next day. It needed to be done, for everyone’s sake. 

That day came quicker than Jon would have preferred, but he’d already made up his mind. He steeled himself, and asked to speak with Martin. He did not miss the intrigued looks from Tim and Sasha, but he ignored them. The only thing he needed to focus on at that moment was Martin. 

And then he apologized. 

And Martin, surprisingly, accepted it easily. He just nodded, and asked if there was anything else. Jon said there wasn’t, and he watched Martin walk back to the break room. 

He sighed. It felt good to have that off his chest, but he wasn’t...done. Just apologizing would not fix the harm he’d cause. He needed to make amends, too. Saying sorry was only the beginning. 

In addition to working on himself and his own methods of processing emotions, Jon began to notice Martin much more. He started to see all the unseen work that Martin did, and he felt a deep sense of appreciation for him begin to grow. The first time Martin brought Jon tea again, Jon was so glad he almost sighed contentedly. 

Additionally, Tim and Sasha had taken him to inviting Jon out for drinks after work, which he usually declined. But something in him decided ‘fuck it,’ and for the first time, he accepted their invitation. Tim and Sasha wore matching expressions of surprised glee, but Jon was paying careful attention to Martin’s reaction. He just shrugged and smiled easily, and Jon let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. 

Jon felt a bit awkward, at first, but he became comfortable before long. Tim managed to drag him into a round of darts that he turned out to be surprisingly good at. When they returned, Jon happened to glance at Martin, who was looking at him with wide eyes and cheeks flushed from the alcohol. 

Martin frowned, and excused himself, and Jon was surprised to find he was disappointed to see him leave. He kept chatting with Sasha and Tim, and when Martin returned, Jon could not stop the grin that spread across his cheeks. 

There was a small hint of _something_ in Jon’s chest that demanded attention whenever Jon looked at Martin. Something that he knew he could not ignore for long. It made Jon’s voice catch in his throat. 

He pushed it aside. He could address it later. He had more important things to worry about at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Jon, you won't have time later, because of sad canon reasons :////


End file.
